My Mary Ann
by incredibella
Summary: Artina angst. A missing scene from Glee's 2nd season. Rated T for language.


**A/N: Well then. This turned out absolutely NOWHERE as good as it seemed to be in my head. I came up with the idea for this oneshot and began writing it over a year ago, immediately after the San Diego Comic Con from which we learned Artina would be breaking up for S2. This story is supposed to take place at the beginning of S2. Finally, I've finished it. So, before I ramble on too much… I'll just say, I hope you enjoy reading my humble story. The song lyrics are from **_**More Than a Feeling **_**by Boston.**

**My Mary Ann**

_I woke up this morning and the sun was goneTurned on some music to start my dayI lost myself in a familiar songI closed my eyes and I slipped awayIt's more than a feelingMore than a feelingWhen I hear that old song they used to playMore than a feelingAnd I begin dreamingMore than a feeling'Til I see Mary Ann walk awayI see my Mary Ann walkin' awaySo many people have come and goneTheir faces fade as the years go byYet I still recall as I wander onAs clear as the sun in the summer sky_

"Have fun in calculus!"

Her voice resonates down the practically deserted hall, its carefree confident tone almost unrecognizable even to my ears. All the same I identify it. Of course I do, and picture the rosy tongue that I know- and remember almost too well- poking teasingly from the corner of her mouth.

Despite the fresh stabs of pain that seem to pierce my heart every time I see her, as well as a fierce attempt at resisting the urge to do so, I glance up from my locker in what I hope is an inconspicuous manner. Thanks to my fairly strong glasses prescription, I can tell from several yards away that her deep brown eyes are warm, narrowed, and clearly sparkling in a reflection of the bright grin she's wearing; it's the sort of grin she'd once kept reserved only for me. Also that I was right about the tongue sticking out. Luckily, those thoughts do not make me heave a wistful sigh. Although I know I probably shouldn't, my hands still their movements to halt the noisy rummaging of books and binders within my locker. If anyone was around to ask I'd vehemently deny it, but I do this because just in case she speaks again, I want to be able to drink in and memorize the voice of this new self-assured sixteen year old.

"I'll meet you in the parking lot after school, okay?"

When the girl speaks again, I shut my eyes to listen intently and absorb the sound that my ears seem to thirst wildly for. Unfortunately, "okay" is the last thing I hear other than a few inaudible murmurs and a soft giggle, followed by softly echoing footsteps retreating farther down the hall.

Disappointed, I reopen my eyes to see Mike Chang ducking his head nervously as he pushes open the door of the nearest classroom. Mike looks ashamed as he slinks in, and I hear the irritated squawk of a teacher reprimand his lateness. Sure, Mike may give off a vibe of laidback cool, but I'm almost certain he's worried about the consequences of another tardy mark. What will those strict Asian parents of his say about it? Honestly, I can't bring myself to care. I narrow my eyes in dislike as I watch his back disappear behind the steel door of Mr. Gordon's classroom. I know I shouldn't hate Mike, he's a pretty chill guy, but I just can't help it. Just can't help but think that maybe if he didn't exist I wouldn't be crying myself to sleep practically every night as I have been for the past few months. Sure, we were starting to become friends by the end of last year, being a team in Glee and all, but things have changed since then and we never talk anymore unless it's absolutely necessary.

Then I remember that Mike isn't the only one late to class today. I toss an unneeded binder into my bottom locker and slam it shut with an overly loud bang that echoes down the hall. Oops. Like the huge dork that I am, I cringe at the racket, fearing that I'll be reproved for the disturbance during a time when I should be in class. By law, I'm allowed as much time as I need to go to my locker and get to class. Being the good boy that I am, I don't typically take advantage of this, but I suppose just one time won't make a difference on my permanent record. Even still, I hope I'm not _too _late.

With a final drawn out, wistful sigh, I shift my gloved hands and wheel myself to the class I should have been settling into nearly twenty minutes ago.

The remaining three periods of the school day drag on painfully slow, like a bee half drowned in honey. Even so, by the end of the day I can hardly recall a word any of my teachers uttered. My thoughts still linger on _her. _Tina Cohen-Chang. The first girl I ever kissed. The _only _one who had ever kissed me. Our relationship hadn't even managed to last a year, and our best friendship seemed to have died along with it. Now wasn't the time to wallow in my regrets. Again. That could be saved for tonight in the loneliness of my room, the pitch darkness lit only by the moon and the silvery light it reflected off my tears.

I leave my last class in a nostalgic haze to remain distant all throughout Glee club, nearly missing Mr. Schuester's inquiry of whether I was feeling alright. I withdrew from the group, only adding to the group with simple harmonies when I was needed. When I begin to think the torture of seeing _her_ with Mike will be the death of me before I was safely home, Mr. Schue dismisses us. Gratefully, I speed out of the room and towards the back parking lot of the school.

"Stay out of this, _Wheels_."

Neanderthal-like Karofsky sneers at me, his broad upper lip curling on a face that looms several feet above my head, as he glares down at me coldly. Remind me again why I've decided to suddenly jumped to the defense of my ex-girlfriend upon overhearing the cruelest jocks in school muttering about her?

I don't even know if Tina is my best friend anymore. I haven't spoken to her in months. Not since she dumped me via text message in the middle of summer vacation. _Text message for goodness' sake! _If that wasn't damaging enough to a sixteen year old's self-esteem, I'd heard from Kurt less than two weeks later that she and Mike Chang had been on a double date with Finn and Rachel. Seriously? When had Tina ever wanted to spend time with Rachel Berry outside of Glee club? And that was BEFORE she had even cornered me in the cafeteria line on the first day of school to end our relationship officially and tell me about she and Mike. Just remembering he whole thing makes me feel even more like shutting myself in my bedroom, blasting melancholy Beatles songs, and sobbing myself to sleep. But of course, big boys like me don't cry. It's simply not allowed.

"Yeah, _cripple_," beefy Azimio simply has to contribute, a wicked glint in his eye.

"It's not like you ever fucked the goth bitch."

"Not like he even _could_ if he'd wanted to."

The dastardly duo begins to snicker at that and fury seethes within me, though the truth in their assumptions about our relationship stinging almost more than the inaccuracy of those regarding my physical capabilities.

Another snort of laughter slices through the air. That's when I remember the hulking football players taunting and leering down at me.

"Anyway, what girl would wanna fuck him? Dressed like my grandpa and all."

At this, something inside me finally snaps and I wheel closer to them in a wild rage, nearly blinded by fury.

"I'll have you know that I still have the use of my penis."

I spit sharply, managing to crush each of their ten toes beneath my chair wheels as I dash past right beneath the pair's oversized noses.

"And by the way, you do not _ever_ insult my clothes."

Unfortunately, my words and actions don't have the menacing effect I'm aiming for. Combined with the fact that my wheelchair doesn't make the best getaway vehicle, I have pretty much doomed myself to a slushie in the face. Accompanied, free of charge, by a dumpster toss.

"Look at this shrimpy punk!" Karofsky crows, condescendingly. "Thinks he rules the school."

"Bring us some Big Quench! It's time for a Slushie Storm!" He announces, to a group of football players still milling about after practice.

All the intimidated Freshmen that have been looking on helplessly rush away to the school cafeteria, probably worried that failure to obey immediately will result in being added to the list of the football players' favorite victims. Which is not the case, seeing as cripples and Goths formerly with faked stutters are amongst those they picked on the most. Let alone Glee Clubbers.

Tina and I are accosted by a tidal wave of slushie to the face, the jocks yank me roughly from my chair. Who is carrying me? Without my glasses and eyes flushed with colored ice, I cannot see, but I hear Tina's cries of protest not too far behind. To the dumpster they take us.

"Tina?"

I manage to croak in a rasp as I paw blindly at the sea of trash we are surrounded by. My glasses have been lost in the mass of rubbish that accompany us in the dumpster.

"I'm over here Artie." Someone speaks through the sea of trash that surrounds us, her tone one that is surprisingly light and tinged with humor.

"Where exactly is "here" Tee? You know I'm pretty blind without my glasses." I joke, twisting around onto my stomach and unseeingly feeling the air with my hands, which are stretched out as far in front of me as they will go in the direction of the speaker.

Why do my glasses always seem to disappear right when I need them the most? Good lord do those jocks know how to make life difficult. Not that I need any assistance in that area. Only then do I realize that upon hearing her voice speak my name for the first time since a season ago, I'd fallen right back into my old patterns. Do I even have the right to joke around in such a manner with her anymore? Let alone use a nickname that I'd always reserved for our private moments together.

"Art, right _here_." I can hear the smile in Tina's voice as she returns the use of a nickname. Before I find time to reply, a slight hand with slender fingers catches a tight hold on my left hand.

The contact, however innocent, sends a rush of warmth through my entire being. For the first time since late June, I feel - complete, for lack of a better word. I squint at her in effort to sharpen my vision. Despite the grape slushie dripping from her rounded chin and the tips of her raven-colored hair, Tina's beauty radiates through the garbage.

"Artie, you really didn't have to stand up for me." She tells me gently but firmly, a look of vague anguish smoldering in her deep brown eyes as she stretches her free hand out toward me and gingerly unwraps her fingers from around my glasses.

"And you shouldn't have tried to stop them from slushieing me. It only made matters worse." With wordless gratitude, I slide my glasses out of her grasp and back onto my face.

I barely have a moment for blinking to readjust my vision before abrupt words tumble from Tina's silken, artificial grape stained lips.

"What happened to us, Artie?"

The two of us sit in borderline awkward silence for what feels like an era, until I manage in a husky voice, "I… I wish I… It's all my fault. I ignored you. For a cold, lifeless screen. You really have no idea how much I regret it. Tina, you deserve the best. And I, I'm not it. Or I wasn't then."

Stuttering, I meet her eyes for a millisecond before continuing to ramble. I know that if I stop now, I'll never be able to start again. Though devoid of the formerly standard bright hairstreak and vivid eye makeup, her face is familiar and gentle, taking comfort from this, my infamous word vomit spills forth once more.

"I'm so, _so_ sorry. Tina…"

With an honest, unfaltering smile she speaks simple words. _"Already forgiven,"_

This seems to topple a dam in me, and my mini speech continues.

"Tina, I never meant or wanted to push you away. That was the last thing… Please, Tina. Take me back. Give me - give _us_ one more chance. I promise I can change. I can change for you. There's nothing, _no one_, I want more than you. It's you. Only you. Ever since we met in 7th grade, I knew you were the one for me. Please." I despise the begging tone that my voice has fallen into, but it only reflects the deep sincerity of my words. "Tina…"

Before I can complete another sentence, I feel the soothing warmth of her breath upon my face, drawing ever closer. Without even allowing me to react to the intimacy of this closeness, her petal-soft lips press a tender kiss to mine. This kiss is filled with forgiveness, promise, and fondness. But just as a flame of hope ignites my chest, a forest fire is avoided. She breaks the kiss ever so gently, her warm eyes of richest chocolate at last flickering up to meet mine.

I'm seconds from offering her a ride home, but an era too late. An unwelcome -at least to my ears- pierces the soft silence that had descended upon us in our private moment atop the trash heap.

"Tina?.. TINA! Where are you? Are you alright?"

My eyes flicker upward, though from here I cannot see outside of the dumpstr except sky. It's Mike. The fact that he sounds genuinely worried prevents me from hating him for interrupting this moment. Still, that kiss has to have meant something. I meet Tina's eyes, questions burning in them.

"Tina…" I whisper, hopefully. Of course I am as readable to her as ever, and she knows what I am asking.

"Artie, I… He's looking for me. I have to… I should go."

In that moment, our four brown eyes lock. In the depths of hers, I see a mirror image of the pain that must be shining in mine. Clearly she still cares about me. Just… Not enough.

"I'm sorry." And she truly looks it. That final whisper and she alights from the dumpster with all the grace of panther, leaving me staring up at the clouds.

_It's more than a feeling._

_More than a feeling,_

_When I hear that old song they used to play._

_More than a feeling,_

_And I begin dreaming._

_More than a feeling,_

_'Til I see Mary Ann walk away_

_I see my Mary Ann walkin' away._

_When I'm tired and thinking cold_

_I hide in my music, forget the day_

_And dream of a girl I used to know_

_I closed my eyes and she slipped away_

_She slipped away._

_It's more than a feeling_

_More than a feeling_

_When I hear that old song they used to play_

_More than a feeling_

_And I begin dreaming_

_More than a feeling_

_'Til I see Mary Ann walk away._


End file.
